


Fiddler on the Deck

by Rizobact



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Non-Graphic OC Deaths, Pirates, Storms, Supernatural Elements, ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 05:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10483698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rizobact/pseuds/Rizobact
Summary: Having a musician onboard for a long voyage is usually a necessity. Too bad for these pirates the musician they captured for themselves isn’t of this world and doesn’t appreciate being press-ganged into service.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So. Found a song, got inspired, wrote a fic. That never happens with me, except it apparently did. And it's not even Transformers! But, thanks to some encouragement by a wonderful friend, I'm going to post it anyway.
> 
> Here’s the song for those interested: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XNjd3jdeuFk

The wind was changing… 

…salt on the air, crisp and cool like the edge of a knife under the gathering clouds. 

A storm was coming.

Several days out to sea from the nearest point of harbor, the crew of the  _ Santiano  _ caught the scent of it and immediately set about securing the ship. Storms at sea blew up quickly; there was no time to waste.

While they worked, the blind minstrel sat on his barrel, fiddling to keep everyone’s energy high. He heard the pace of the steps around him hasten in time with the tempo, the lubbers dancing to his tune.

_ If they only knew.  _

With a quirk of a smile, he sped up his bowing, arm pitching and yawing like the ship on the quickening waves. He couldn’t see the frenetic expressions of the crew past the solid band over his unseeing eyes, but he could feel the energy of the storm and the music infusing the deck and those on it. Faster, faster, then faster still, until he surged to his feet with a swell of sound and sea, laughing with the first rumble of thunder.

“Oi! You there!” 

The voice of the bo’sun carried over the deck, booming above the waves alongside the crack of his whip. The fiddler laughed again, sidestepping the lash with a roll of the deck as he drew his bow across the strings, summoning the waves with his song.

Shouts and startled cries filled the air as the crew realized what was happening. At the fiddler’s bidding the forces of nature converged, all coming down together upon the doomed ship. Rain and wind slashed at the sails, pelting and stinging the helpless sailors with hail as they searched in vain for an escape.

With unnatural agility, the blind musician danced his way to the side of the ship, evading the cannon and cargo sliding unhindered across the deck. His fiddling never ceased as he climbed the rigging, putting himself out of reach of the crashing waves. A devil’s smile flickered on his face under the black sky, lit by lightning in the thunderheads blotting out the sun. 

The sound of the storm was the sound of the music, shrill and shrieking and wild. It carried his laughter and the screams of the sailors. A wailing, moaning  _ groan  _ whipped through the sails with the creaking of the mast, carrying the voices of those claimed by the fiddler long ago.

They would have company soon.

Tossed about by the raging sea, the ship began to break apart. The fiddler climbed higher as he stoked the storm higher, stirring the waters into a whirlpool and sucking the ship into its wake. Sails torn ragged flapped in the wind like a flag of surrender as she began to circle the drain.

_ No mercy for the likes of you! _

The pirates who had forced the fiddler onto their ship sank with with her into madness before their deaths, driven to the brink by the melody raining down from above. Some flung themselves overboard while others collapsed where they stood, unable to do more than wait for their fate to claim them. And claim them it did. Pieces of debris flew through the air, cutting like swords and piercing like needles, great frothing tendrils reached out to lift them from the deck and hurl them into the churning waters, and lighting stabbed down with vicious, targeted precision.

Above them all, the fiddle sang merrily… 

…and the fiddler was nowhere in sight. 


End file.
